The Life, Times and Misadventures of Draco Malfoy
by Lawliet Holmes
Summary: After Draco Malfoy is kicked out of his house, he finds shelter in a tent. There's just one catch; the tent is full of Gryffindors on a camp-out. Draco manages to convince them to let him stay, but at a horrible price. What follows is an epic tale of Alcohol, Truth or Dare, Tight Leather, Man Love, Embarrassing Secrets and lots of Wild, Kinky Sex. Warnings: See above
1. Chapter 1

1 - In Which Draco Malfoy Has A Problem, And Finds A Less Than Satisfactory Solution To Said Problem

(Author's Note: This was my first ever fanfic and written quite some time ago, which means it's not very good. However, I have refrained from editing anything, so as to capture the mood I was in when I wrote it. I hope you enjoy, but if not, tell me; I always welcome constructive criticism (However, flame reviews deliberately intended to piss me off will be ignored and reported). Hope you like :)

Draco Malfoy was, for quite possibly the first time in his life (well, save for the whole Fabulous Bouncing Ferret affair) genuinely worried. He was outside in the pouring rain, in a field, with nothing but the robes on his back, his emergency money, and his wand, with nowhere to sleep. He supposed it was his own fault; his father _had_ told him that the Dark Lord was coming to tea that afternoon, and Draco _had_ accidentally called said Dark Lord a 'single-celled Cro-Magnon' who 'couldn't even defeat a little baby'.

And then, despite Lucius Malfoy's protestations, the Malfoy heir _had_ gone on to elaborate on how the Death Eaters were little more than Voldemort's 'sexually frustrated groupies' who 'enjoyed the prospect of being punished by the overly kinky dark wizard'.

And if that wasn't enough, Draco had done the one thing that the Dark Lord _never_ tolerated. He'd mentioned the rabbit.

The rabbit in question was an entity that everybody within Voldemort's circle knew about, but never mentioned; Tom Marvolo Riddle the Second, a fluffy white rabbit who accompanied Voldemort everywhere. Hardened Death Eaters had been hit with a killing curse just for mentioning the rabbit, but Draco had gone so far as to use it as an excuse to question the Dark Lord's questionable sexuality.

After five minutes of loud swearing, hexes and killing curses, Lucius Malfoy had no choice but to throw Draco Malfoy out of the house. It was either that or submit him to a lifetime of servitude to the Dark Lord. As a Sex Kitten.

And so Draco found himself wandering around the countryside, with nowhere to sleep, wishing he'd kept his mouth shut. And then, miraculously, he heard singing. Happy singing. And clapping, of all things. He looked towards where it was coming from, and was thrilled to see a glowing light, that on closer inspection revealed itself to be a very large tent. And the shadows of the singing individuals were visible. Draco naturally had doubts about walking into a strange tent in the middle of nowhere, but then he saw his reflection in a puddle. His normally perfect hair was ruined; flopping down over his eyes in the rain. That clinched it; nothing inside that tent could be worse that what was outside. He ran towards it, quickly unzipped the door, and stumbled in, falling to the floor.

Then several things happened at once. There was a girlish, strangely familiar shriek, a male yell, and then the most awkward silence Draco had ever heard.

Then a deep, oh-so-familiar voice that _still_ sent shivers down his spine broke that silence.

"Draco Malfoy, you have three seconds to get the _fuck_ out of our tent before you are hit with so many hexes you'll be shitting out your mouth for the next six years."

Malfoy groaned inwardly; why did this always happen to him?

Of all the people that could be in this tent, it had to be Harry Fucking Potter.

The Malfoy heir looked around and swore under his breath; this had to be a nightmare. He was sprawled in the middle of a circle, and staring right at him was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, glaring daggers at him, looking genuinely terrifying. Next to him was the blood-traitor Ron Weasly, looking at him with equal hatred, and next to the Weasel was that insufferable know-it-all Hermione Granger, who was trying not to laugh, obviously looking at his hair. And then he looked at the rest of the circle; Fred, George and Ginny Weasly, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan and, to his eternal surprise, Oliver Wood.

"Uh…" said Draco articulately. "I can explain."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I bet you can, but we don't want to hear it. The whole point of this camp-out was to spend the first few days of summer holiday together, with a guaranteed _no interference _from Slytherin. So, as Harry so plainly put it, get the fuck out of our tent."

Draco opened and closed his mouth a few times like a goldfish, much to the amusement of a giggling Ginny Weasly, before trying to answer.

"Potter, look; you don't understand. I'm…"

"A lying, cheating, bullying little ferret with boundary issues? Absolutely", Fred finished, and George laughed.

"Not to mention a complete tit who happens to be sleeping with Professor Snape", the other Weasly twin interjected, and Draco spluttered.

"What the hell? That's too far, you dickhead!"

"Yeah, well that's what Snape said when you tried to get McGonagall to be the third player", chortled Fred, and Draco lost it.

"Shut up, you fucking beggar! I'm trying to explain! I need your help!"

Ron raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, and we need you to fuck off."

"Articulate as ever, Weasel", Draco drawled, before realising that antagonising the Gryffindors was not in his best interests.

"Sorry", he said quickly, and everybody in the tent drew breath.

"Okay", said Harry, "Draco Malfoy? Apologizing? Something must be _really _wrong. You have two minutes. Sell it to us."

Fred, George and Ron all rolled their eyes, annoyed at Harry's good nature breaking through again, but consented to listen.

Draco dragged himself up off the floor and made himself a little more comfortable.

"Okay, my dad got a visit from You-Know-Who, and I may have accidentally insulted him so badly that my dad kicked me out of the house. And it's raining outside, it's cold, my friends' parents hate me, and this is the only dry place for miles."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "And you want us to let you, Draco Malfoy, Gryffindor's most hated enemy save for Voldemort, stay in _our_ tent, at _our_ camp-out, which, I hasten to add, is strictly Gryffindor only, in exchange for what? The pleasure of your company?"

Draco's shoulders slumped; he'd known this was going to be a tough cell. Then he remembered his emergency money.

"I know the guy at the local pub."

Harry shrugged. "So what?"

Draco pulled the money out of his pockets; there were at least twenty galleons there.

"I have emergency money. I can get you butterbeer. Or firewhiskey."

Fred Weasly nodded slowly.

"Tell me, Ferret, what exactly did you do to insult the Dark Lord?"

Draco looked at the ground.

"I may have accidently called him a single-celled Cro-Magnon who failed to kill a little boy. And I _may _possibly have insinuated that Voldemort takes his sexual frustration out on his Death Eaters. And, I think… I think I insulted the bunny."

George laughed. "What bunny? That's new!"

"You-Know-Who has a rabbit. Tom Marvolo Riddle the Second."

Hermione laughed, surprising everybody.

"Oh come on, Harry. That's brilliant. Let him stay!"

Draco sighed in relief, never so glad to hear the Granger girl's voice.

There was silence as Harry thought, and Draco shivered in the cold.

And then the Boy-Who-Lived spoke.

"Okay Malfoy, you can stay."

"Oh thank you, Potter! Thank y…"

"But!" Harry almost shouted, silencing the blond. "But, there are several conditions. First, any mention of blood-traitors, mudbloods, pure-bloods or any Death Eater shit like that and you will be forced to eat every single item from Weasly's Wizarding Wheezes that Fred and George have bought with them. None of those have been tested. Understand?"

Draco nodded, but Harry continued.

"Two; any mention whatsoever of the Weasly's financial status and I will hex you till you die."

Draco nodded again, slightly less enthusiastic than last time.

"And rule three; you _will_ participate in _every_ camp-out game we play, with full enthusiasm, of Hermione will have the great pleasure of transfiguring you into a Ferret."

Draco didn't not, so to speak; it was more of a slight tremble, and Harry smiled.

"Okay, now you need to magically sign this contract. We've all signed it."

"What is it, Potter?" Draco demanded.

Harry sighed. "New rule; first names only from you, Malfoy. Now, the contract means that everybody here will abide by the sleepover law; nothing that happens in the tent leaves the tent. Got it?"

Draco flicked his wand and his signature appeared on the paper.

Ginny moved up and patted the space next to her.

"Alright Draco; sit down. We were just about to play Wink Murder."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What the hell is that, Weas… Ginny?"

Hermione cleared her throat, and everybody in the tent mentally groaned.

"Well, it's a Muggle game, where everybody sits in a circle and…"

Once Hermione had finished her unnecessarily longwinded despcription of the game, and they'd managed to wake Fred and George, they began play. Oliver Wood was the detective, and was magically blindfolded and hit with a muffiliato charm while the others selected a murderer; Neville Longbottom.

Hermione was the first to go, possibly because the rules stated that dead people had to be silent, and then George. Oliver picked Draco as the murderer, to nobody's surprise, and lost a life, and then Neville killed Ron, who made a big show of dramatically falling to the floor, and was just starting on the whole 'I can see the light' speech when Fred his him with a Petrificus Totalius spell.

"Thank you", Draco said, much to his surprise, and Fred nodded, which got him picked by Oliver, resulting in the loss of another life. Then George tried to come back as an Inferi, and bit Oliver's leg. Oliver tried to jinx him, but missed and hit Seamus, who shot a hex back, and things were looking like turning into a full-scale fight when Harry cast a body bind on both of them.

Things back to normal, and the body-binds relaxed, play continued. Draco was killed, and he conveniently fell on Ron, who couldn't move due to Fred's spell. Oliver picked Harry, and lost the game, and laughed when he realised it was Neville.

"I never would have guessed."

Fred un-jinxed Ron, and they all sat back up.

Draco didn't see the point in games like that, but at least he was out of the rain.

Then Harry dropped the bombshell.

"Okay, now I think we should tell Draco the small print. We're here for a week. And due to that contract, so are you."

It took body-bind hexes from both Harry and Hermione to subdue the Malfoy heir.


	2. Chapter 2

2 - In Which Draco Buys Alcohol, Ron Loses At Monopoly, And Seamus Tries To Seduce The Malfoy Heir

Once Draco had suitably recovered, they all sat in the middle of the tent, listening to Hermione.

"Okay, so here's the plan. As soon as there's a break in the rain, Fred will take Draco and apparate near the pub, where they will come back with as much butterbeer, firewhiskey and other such beverages as they can cart back here. I will enchant the bucket of water so that it freezes, not that it'll make much difference, and we'll keep it in there. Then we'll play Monopoly…"

"What's that", Draco asked, and everybody present rolled their eyes.

"Muggle game", they chorused, and Draco muttered something that rhymed with flood graters, which fortunately nobody heard.

"And then it'll be time for sleep. Then tomorrow we'll have breakfast and start on the activities."

"What activities?" Draco asked, and Hermione smiled.

"We've managed to convince Professor McGonagall and Remus Lupin to organise some games for us."

"Whoop-de-fucking-doo", Draco sighed, but Hermione ignored him.

"And then we do whatever we want. Sound like a plan?"

"It sounds less like a plan than what Hagrid does to prepare his lessons, but what the hell? Let's do it."

An hour later, Fred and Draco returned pushing two wheelbarrows full of every type of beverage you could think of. They were both sopping wet, but it was worth it for the looks on the Gryffindors faces.

"That is one _very_ good haul, Malfoy. I'm impressed; if that's just emergency money, then what the hell does your savings account look like?"

Malfoy felt a particularly nasty retort rise to his tongue, but for once in his life he held it. He was soaking wet again, and needed to dry.

"Okay everybody, take _one_ can of butterbeer each and help me set up the board."

After Hermione explained the rules, and Draco had gotten over the shock of hearing Fred Weasly's theory as to what the Iron _really_ was for (something highly disturbing involving fire, steam and phallically-challenged Muggles), Draco discovered that he had quite a talent for it. Pretty soon he'd bought up the greens, the yellow and the reds, leaving Harry and Hermione to fight over the dark blues. Draco found the fact that all four Weaslys went bust within a few turns of one another strangely ironic, but wisely chose to shut his mouth, focussing instead on buying up Oliver's pink street and filling it with houses.

Within two hours the game was over, Draco winning by a mile.

"Are you _sure_ you've never played this before?" Hermione asked suspiciously, and Draco nodded.

"Never in my life, but this game is about acquiring and keeping huge amounts of money, something which I, being a Malfoy, am naturally suited to."

George Weasly stuck his nose into the air and put on a very posh voice.

"And I, being a Malfoy, am naturally a big heading prick who is sleeping with Professor Snape."

"I am NOT sleeping with Snape, Weasly! So fuck off and watch as I bankrupt your pathetic, blood-trai…"

He stopped at Harry's death glare, something he was only used to seeing from Snape and his Father.

"I'm sorry", he said, and Ginny bent over to Hermione's ear.

"I think he's ill", she stage whispered.

"Okay everybody, time to get some sleep. Now there are five compartments, so here are the sleeping arrangements. Ginny will be with me, Fred with George, Ron with Oliver, Harry with Neville and Seamus with Draco. Any objections?"

Draco started to object, but he saw Ginny twirling her wand around her fingers, and, knowing full well what her bat bogey hexes could do to a Malfoy with a delicate complexion such as himself, he very wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Okay, good then. Get your things, get into your nightclothes and meet in the centre for hot chocolate before we go."

Draco walked into the porch-type bit of the tent and got his wand out.

"Accio nightclothes!" he shouted, and waited. Two minutes later, his most embarrassing pair of pyjamas hit him full in the face; the bright red ones with the green candy canes his mother had gotten for him last Christmas. He tried to sneak them into his room, but no such luck; George Weasly performed a summoning spell and the Malfoy heir spent the next ten minutes being teased about it, until Fred Weasly, of all people, got them to stop.

Draco sent him a silent nod of thanks, and got changed, summoning his sleeping bag and several bags of galleons from his house while he was at it.

A little while later, they were all sat in the centre, drinking hot chocolate, listening to Hermione telling a Muggle story; some nonsense about a ditsy blonde, who sounded a little too much like Lavender Brown for Draco's liking, getting into trouble with three angry bears. Then they talked for a while, but Draco wasn't listening. He was too busy looking more closely at these people who he'd hated since the first day at Hogwarts. He still detested Harry Potter; that was certain, and Ron Weasly was still the most annoying person in the history of the world, but he felt a small amount of grudging respect for Fred and George. Draco had always harboured an ambition to be a badass, but he found himself being more of a kissass at Hogwarts. Maybe because the teachers were wizards? But Fred and George seemed to have a god-given duty to make as much trouble as possible, and he respected that. Oliver Wood was a good Quidditch player, but a total douche. Seamus Finnigan struck him as a wannabe Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom was… well… Neville Longbottom, and he had no opinion whatsoever on Ginny Weasly except for the fact that she was a Weasly, and therefore an enemy. But Hermione Granger… she was everything he hated; smarter than him and not afraid to rub it in, the one person (save for the Weasly twins) wittier than him, and above all, a filthy Mudblood. But he couldn't quite bring himself to hate her; in fact, he'd harboured a tiny little crush on her since first year. It was just something about those eyes, and the fact that she so obviously didn't care how she looked.

In fact, maybe this camp-out would provide the opportunity to win her over a bit. You never knew; with a Malfoy, there was no such thing as impossible.

"Alright guys, we'd better get some sleep if we're to be fit for the activities tomorrow. Goodnight, and Fred? George?"

"Yes, Hermione?" they said as one.

"Tempting as it may be, absolutely no putting anything unsavoury in Draco's sleeping bag."

Draco started to thank her, but stopped when she smiled evilly.

"It might get Seamus by mistake, and we wouldn't want that, would we?"

The twins nodded, and Draco got the feeling he would wake up much less happy than he had been going to sleep, which was really saying something.

Draco unzipped his compartment and climbed into his sleeping bag, watching Hermione zipping up the rest of the tent. He couldn't tear his eyes away as she bent over to reach the bottom zip, showing off a really, really nice arse. Well, for a Mudblood.

She turned around and caught him looking.

"Seen enough, Malfoy?" she asked sourly, and he looked away, completely missing the blush that shot across her face.

"So Malfoy, how's it been; sharing a tent with the Gryffindors?" asked Seamus.

Draco sneered, not willing to back down so easily.

"About as fun as detention with McGonagall."

"So you loved it, then?"

"What the fuck _are_ you implying, Seamus?"

"That you get off being punished by McGonagall."

"Another word like that out you, you Irish fuckwit, and I'll hex you."

"Aw, Malfoy, you're so sexy when you're pissed off."

Draco jumped about a mile, and backed up, hitting Hermione through the fabric partitions.

"Watch it, Draco!" came an angry voice.

Draco didn't even bother apologizing; he was too busy staring, horrified, at the predatory grin that had appeared on the Irishman's face.

"What the hell, Finnigan?" he whispered. "Have you lost your mind? I'm straight! And I'm a Malfoy! And I'm a Slytherin!"

"Yeah", grinned Seamus, "but I'm not, and…" he dropped his eyes, looking embarrassed.

"Well, there goes plan A. Sorry, Malfoy. I get the feeling I've just made a complete dickhead of myself."

"Too right, Seamus", Draco said.

"I'm sorry; it's just, I've had a crush on you since first year, and now I'm finally in the same bedroom as you and… well, my secondary brain is doing the thinking here."

Draco mentally recoiled. "Too much information, Seamus. Please, just shut up and fuck off."

Seamus' face fell, and Draco felt bad; a landmark moment for the young Malfoy. It wasn't something he normally did; feeling bad.

"Hey, sorry Seamus. I'm just a bit stressed after today."

"Yeah, sorry. I think I came on a bit strong."

"You think? Look; I'm not about to get off with you, but if this is any kind of camp out, they'll have some form of Spin the Bottle, or Truth or Dare, won't they? And you know how those get."

Seamus smiled, and Draco felt something he'd never felt before. No! Not _that_ kind of feeling; he actually felt happy because he made somebody else happy. And becoming nice was step one to getting in the Mudblood's pants.

On the other side of the partition, Hermione giggled. She hadn't thought Seamus would try to seduce the Slytherin _this _early, but she was pleasantly surprised by his reaction. It was good that he was trying to be nice. God knew he had a long way to go, but maybe, just maybe… Her thoughts were interrupted by Ginny quietly wolf whistling.

"Seamus loves Malfoy", she sneered, and Hermione glared at her.

"Don't… I think it's quite sweet, actually. Seamus has loved that son of a bitch for ages."

"Yeah, but Malfoy's freaked out, isn't he."

"Of course he is, idiot, but he's hiding it well for a Malfoy. I think he's really trying to be nice."

Ginny sighed. "You're just saying that to give yourself an excuse to shag him."

"Don't be disgusting, Ginny. I plan on waiting until I'm sixteen."

Ginny calculated for a minute, and then laughed. "That's tomorrow!" she giggled.

"Exactly, Ginny."

Ginny smiled an evil smile. "Well, I on the other hand am _not_ planning on waiting till I'm legal, and I must admit that Harry is looking _ravishing_ this week."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Some things never change", she muttered.

_But maybe, just maybe, some things do…_ she thought.


	3. Chapter 3

3 - In Which Draco Shows His Inner Gryffindor, Professor McGonagall Puts 'Fast And Furious' To Shame, And They All Go Shopping

Draco woke up to find Seamus staring at him, but he didn't comment; he was determined to be nice today, because last night's temptation to grope Hermione through the partition was just too much. He went into the makeshift lounge, still in his pyjamas, and found the others eating slightly grey-looking pancakes.

"Hermione", Ron was saying, "not that I don't appreciate it, but it's taken half a lemon and six spoons of sugar to make this _not_ taste like dog shit. Next time, Harry's cooking."

"No, mate; I can't cook for shit", Harry said, and when nobody commented, Draco coughed slightly.

"Uh… I can cook… quite well, actually. I'll do it."

"Thanks, Draco", said Seamus, and Fred nodded in appreciation, his mouth being too full to talk.

Harry shrugged. "Anything's got to be better than Hermione's cooking."

Draco saw the angry look Hermione shot Harry, and without stopping to think through the consequences, he grabbed a plate and piled the remaining stack of pancakes onto his place. Helping himself to a generous dollop of syrup he began to eat.

Ron was right.

They were _foul_.

But Draco ate them all, right down to the last crumb, and all without making a sound. Or even a disgusted face. And afterwards he smacked his lips and said, a little too enthusiastically,

"I don't know what those two are talking about; that was delicious."

And everybody there put aside their differences in one combined moment of sheer respect for Draco Malfoy. With bravery like that, he could have been in Gryffindor.

George Weasly made the mistake of voicing that statement aloud, earning him a slap from Hermione. And then they all went back to their compartments to get changed, but Hermione waited, walking over to Draco.

"Thank you", she said, and Draco shrugged.

"Don't mention it", he said.

"No really", she started, but Draco, unable to contain his Slytherin self _that_ much yet, interrupted.

"Really, don't mention it, or I might be sick. I'm gonna need a while."

She laughed, and dropped him a wink.

"See you, Malfoy." And she went into her compartment.

A while later, they were all stood outside, Fred, George and Ron tossing a battered quaffle around, while Harry sat on the branch of a tree, playing a game he'd learnt from Snape's pensieve; he has holding a golden snitch, and he'd let go, let it fly away a little bit, and then catch it.

_Arrogant little fuck_, Draco sneered. Then he became aware of a large shape flying through the air towards them, and he flinched, but then laughed when he realised what it actually was.

Professor McGonagall was sitting on a broomstick, flying towards them and seemingly trying to break the world speed record. With Remus Lupin riding pillion, gripping the Professor tighter than a Malfoy's wallet, and screaming like Severus Snape confronted with shampoo.

The Professor landed perfectly next to the tent, and Lupin practically threw himself onto the ground, gasping for breath.

"Land!" he exclaimed, and McGonagall looked at him with distaste.

"Oh _do_ get up, Remus. One would think you'd never ridden a broomstick before", she said haughtily, and Remus coughed.

"I've ridden broomsticks before, Professor, but I'm no rodeo rider. Even James Potter flew safer than you did."

"And I can assure you, Remus, that had teachers been allowed to play in the Quidditch teams, James Potter would have never gotten a look in."

"If you say so. Hey Harry, how you been?"

"Alright, I guess", Harry replied, giving his old teacher a hug.

"Ron! Hermione! Fred! George! Ginny! Seamus! Neville! M… What the fuck?"

"Remus!" McGonagall exclaimed in horror, and Lupin clapped his hand across his mouth.

"Sorry, Prof, it's just… What the hell is Malfoy doing here?"

"Well, it's a bit of a long story", said Harry, as Fred and George tried not to laugh.

"Wait… so you're saying that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the greatest Dark Wizard in history, whose evil knows no bounds, has a fluffy rabbit called Tom?"

Draco nodded, and even McGonagall had trouble keeping a straight face.

"That's… interesting. But enough of that; we've already wasted valuable time. We've got games to play!" Remus shouted gleefully, and McGonagall shook her head slowly.

_"Try not to sound _too_ exited"_, she muttered, but, as always, the werewolf wasn't listening.

Lupin led them across several fields to a wood of sorts, and then turned to face them.

"Okay guys, first activity is simply to go into these woods and find fifteen Chocolate Frog Cards that Professor McGonagall and I have hidden throughout the area. Do not leave the wood, and be back in an hour. The teams are as follows: Harry, Ron, George, Neville and Oliver are team one, and Hermione, Ginny, Seamus, Fred and Malfoy are team two. The team with the most cards wins. Go!"

The teams ran into the woods. Well, the teams minus Malfoy did. He just sauntered in, waited for Team 1 to get out of sight and then whispered, _"Accio Chocolate Frog Cards"_.

All fifteen flew to his hand; Lupin had obviously forgotten to charm them not too. Draco then caught up with his team and showed them the cards.

"How did you…" Ginny started, but Fred smiled.

"Summoning spell, Ginny. I was gonna use one myself, but I was sure Lupin would have thought of that. Nice work; now we have an hour to make the other Team's life hell."

Hermione looked sceptical. "They're our friends", she said, but Seamus waved her away.

"Come on; it'll be fun. Besides, they're the ones who insulted your cooking."

Hermione looked at them as if they were crazy.

"What the hell are we waiting for? Let's go!"

The next hour was brilliant; even Draco enjoyed himself. He and Fred were brilliant at moving without being seen, so they would sneak up on them and throw things like rocks, sticky plants and shit, and while they were distracted, Ginny, Seamus and Hermione would charm a leaf to look like a Chocolate Frog Card and make it appear in a bog or up a tall tree.

By the time the hour was up, Harry's team were, soaking wet, covered in sticky plants, tired, bruised, and completely cardless.

"It's impossible", Ron moaned, and his jaw dropped when Hermione produced all fifteen cards.

Malfoy sneered.

"Obviously it takes people with skill to find these."

They argued all the way back to the tent.

Over the course of the day, they did capture the flag on broomsticks, an obstacle course with Bludgers flying around, and even building a fort of sorts out of wood (of course, with magic it was so much easier than at Muggle scouts). And then, at three in the afternoon, Remus and McGonagall left for Hogwarts, leaving them alone, again, with no idea what to do.

It was, surprisingly, Ron who had the idea.

"Guys, I have an idea. You know Draco's got loads of money?"

"No, Weasly, I am not paying you to shut up, tempting as it may be", Draco drawled, but Ron was not deterred.

"No, look; what if we all go into the Muggle part of London, pick a person on the camp, and buy them the weirdest outfit we can find. And then they have to wear it this evening for games and all day tomorrow."

Everybody was silent, worrying about what strange drug was in the air that was making Ron so gay. But then Ginny laughed.

"That's brilliant, Ron! But no telling anyone who you've got."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"And does anybody care that it's _my_ money that's being spent?"

Fred and George shared an exasperated glance, before turning to him.

"No", they chorused together.

Everybody wrote their names on a piece of paper, and each person picked a name out of a hat. Draco, to his _great_ delight, was tasked with the outfitting of Harry Potter. _This_ was going to be fun.

That evening, Draco found himself with considerably less money than he did to start off with, but was comfortable that his purchases would take Harry Potter's ego down a considerable amount. He had considered buying him a minidress and fishnet tights, but decided against it when he thought of how Harry's body was considerably more defined than his, and dressing him in clothes like that would hardly help his chances with Hermione.

So he'd settled for something that he'd seen a passer by wearing, and was convinced Harry would hate it.

And so Draco found himself alone in the tent, while the others mucked about in the woods, cooking the food. He didn't mind; despite his cold, evil exterior, deep down, his most treasured memories were of standing on top of a box by the stove, while his mother Narcissa taught him how to cook. In fact, at nine years old, Draco Malfoy's lifetime ambition was to open a restaurant. But then his father started going all evil again, and young, impressionable Draco was dragged down with him into delusions of wizard supremacy, dark magic and being an arrogant prick. This left no time for cooking.

But now Draco stood outside the tent, with a gas stove and two small cauldrons, making magic of a special kind; the magic of cooking. The gas stove was frying vegetables that Longbottom had dug up earlier; potatoes, a few wild roots and even a parsnip, while several pieces of meat were boiling in one of the cauldrons. Draco had even gone so far as to blend vegetables and herbs to create a brilliant tasting sauce in the other cauldron. A bit of ground potatoes, some rosemary, plus some garlic and several other random ingredients he'd found. He tasted it. It was amazing.


	4. Chapter 4

4 - In Which Draco Cooks Dinner, They All Get Makeovers, And We Meet The Kinky Sex Ferret

Lost as he was in cooking the dinner, he didn't notice the person behind him for about five minutes, before a voice said,

"How are you doing that?"

Draco turned around to see Hermione Granger staring open-mouthed at the cauldrons. He bit back several cutting retorts, and instead decided to smile self-consciously; something he'd never had to do before.

"It's just something I learnt off my mother", he said, and Hermione laughed.

"Y'know, no offence or anything, but your mother struck me as more of an evil, power crazed Death Eater than a gourmet chef."

Draco laughed. "Yeah, but she can whip up any meal you like and make it taste amazing."

"Let's hope you've inherited her skills then; I'm not sure _anybody_ can take any more of my pancakes."

"Yeah, well when my victim sees the clothes I've picked out for him, I'm not sure he's going to be able to take _anything_ save for liquids."

"Oh, who've you got?"

Draco tapped his nose.

"See if you can guess when we all come out for games tonight."

She nodded. "I will. I just hope whoever's got me hasn't put me in anything _too_ horrible; I may care less about appearance than most girls, but that doesn't mean I want to go around looking like an idiot all day."

"You couldn't look an idiot if you tried; you can smell the genius a mile off."

It was intended as a compliment, but Hermione took it the wrong way.

"Well at least it can't smell worse than all those hair-care products you're wearing", she retorted, and Draco's jaw dropped.

"How the hell did you know?"

She laughed. "I can smell Madame Hill's Oh-So-Soft Conditioner for Witches a mile off."

Draco blushed, another first for him.

"You won't… uh… tell anyone, will you?"

She laughed. "Of course not, unless somebody asks me in truth or dare tonight. Then I'll have to answer."

"Do you have to?"

She nodded. "It's that or the forfeit, and the forfeits are terrible, especially if Fred and George Weasly set them."

"Well, in that case just tell them the bare minimum, Mu… Hermione."

She smiled.

"See you, Malfoy", she said teasingly, and walked away, deliberately swaying her hips more as she did so, giving Draco a pretty eyeful.

The second she was gone, Draco let out a quiet wolf whistle.

"_I heard that!_" said Hermione, and Draco groaned.

Whoop-de-fucking-doo.

Draco's cooking was met with about the same enthusiasm as Hermione's pancakes; not because they were as bad, but because nobody liked the chef. Despite agreeing to help him out, they still hated the filthy little ferret; food or no food.

Still, conversation flowed freely; Fred and George were busy briefing Ron and Ginny on the appropriate hexes to use if they didn't like their clothes, Harry was chatting animatedly to Neville, Oliver Wood was scoffing the food and Seamus was staring unashamedly at Draco. Hermione was eating at a pace to rival Wood's, and Draco couldn't quite stifle a chuckle.

"What, Malfoy?" she demanded, and Draco grinned.

"In was just thinking of how you eat more than Crabbe and Goyle put together."

Hermione made a rather surprising and obscene hand gesture at him, to peals of laughter from Ron and Harry. Draco just looked smugly at the Boy-Who-Lived, shooting him a look that said, _'Just You Wait'_.

He listened to the others for a while, and then got up.

"Well, I cooked, so Weasly can enchant the sink to wash the dishes, and then I think we should get dressed and play Truth or Dare."

Ron turned to Harry.

"Did the little ferret say something, Harry?" he asked, and Harry shook his head.

"No, I don't think he did. But I think we should get dressed and then play Truth or Dare. The Ferret can wash up."

Draco remained unperturbed, and simply shot Harry a smug smile. The others went into the compartment and Draco counted five. Everybody screamed at the same time.

He quickly made the necessary spells to get the dishes to wash themselves, and then went into his room. Seamus was already dressed, covered up in a long dressing robe, and Draco motioned for him to get out. He saw the carrier bag on his sleeping bag and opened it up. It was fairly obvious who had chosen his clothes.

Taking the clothes out of the bag, it revealed itself to be a pair of the tightest leather slut trousers he'd ever seen, and a tight leather T-shirt, with a neck that seemed to go down to the navel. Swearing to himself, but remembering the contract, he took off his trousers and started to force himself into the trousers. _Fucking hell_, he thought to himself. _This is fucking impossible_.

Eventually, after much groaning, swearing and cursing, he managed to pull them up, and then stand up.

_Shit!_ he thought. _That hurts worse than being hexed by the Weaslys._

Eventually, he managed to squeeze into the T-shirt, and then found a studded belt with a buckle saying _'Heavy Load'_ on it.

_Seamus Finnigan is going to fucking die_, he thought as he put it on. And then, finally, he came to the boots; high-topped leather Cowboy boots.

_Fucking prick_.

He put them on.

And then, right at the bottom of the bag, was a handwritten note.

_Comb you hair forwards_, it said, and Draco sighed. He'd do it just before he revealed his outfit.

Draco put on a dressing rob and walked out, to find everybody else waiting.

"Ah, so the ferret's here", said George.

Ron cleared his throat. "Okay, here's the rules; it's dry outside now, so you go outside, you take off the robe and you catwalk strut into the tent.

Ginny and Hermione giggled, and Ron glared at them.

Fred muttered something about Ron's sexuality.

"For that, Fred, you're going first."

Fred smiled.

"George is coming too", he said, and they walked out. In a few seconds, they both strutted in, laughing. They were both dressed in identical suits, with one major difference; both suits were covered in green sequins.

Everybody started laughing, and the twins gave a little mock bow at the end, before sitting down.

"I take it that you got each other's piece of paper", Hermione deduced, and Fred clapped his hands sarcastically.

"Well done, genius. Next!"

Ron got out the hat with the names in it and picked one out.

"Ginny!"

Ginny blushed bright red, went outside, took off the robe and walked back in.

She was wearing a dress which looked like it came straight from Loony Lovegood's wardrobe, complete with candy bracelets (and, to Draco's eternal surprise, one all the way on her thigh. Everybody laughed.

Fred voiced the point about Loony Lovegood, and got himself a slap. Harry picked out the next name and laughed.

"Oliver Wood!"

And so it continued. Oliver paraded forwards in a kilt, Neville Longbottom found himself in a Vulture hat similar to his grandma's, Seamus Finnigan came out in a leopard-print leotard and Ron, to Draco's immense evil pleasure, came out wearing a patchwork coat. Then Ron called out,

"Harry Potter!"

The Boy-Who-Lived got up and walked out. Then he walked back in, looking more embarrassed than Draco ever seen him. He was dressed in a girl's flowery shirt and bootleg jeans, with a pearl necklace.

And everybody laughed their heads off.

When the laughter died down, Hermione pulled her own name out of the hat, and went outside. Then she came back in, and every jaw in the tent dropped. She was wearing a loose, low-cut black shirt that cut off above her naval, showing off a flat belly, under a tight leather jacket. It looked seriously badass. And she was wearing possibly the shortest skirt Draco had ever seen; a tartan strip of fabric that looked more like a belt than a skirt. She sauntered into the tent, swaying her hips like a catwalk model, and flicked them a little at the end of her walk so one side of the skirt flicked upwards. There was no laughing; everybody applauded, and Fred and George even wolf whistled. Then Ron picked out the last name.

"Draco Malfoy, the Amazing Bouncing Ferret."

Mustering every drop of Malfoy pride, Draco walked outside. Then he took the robe off, flicked his hair forwards, pulled it down over one eye and then held it in place with a spell he'd learnt in 'Hair-Care Weekly'. Then, throwing caution to the wind, he strutted in.

Several things happened at once; Seamus, Ginny, Fred _and_ Ron all gasped, Hermione giggled, George and Harry burst out laughing, and Oliver and Neville just stayed silent.

Nobody expected that, and Draco smiled slightly as he flicked his hair, extracting an orgasmic sigh from Seamus.

Fred recovered first.

"Ladies and gentlemen; Draco Malfoy, the Kinky Sex Ferret!"

Everybody burst out laughing as Draco sat down next to Fred.

Then George stood up.

"It's time for Truth or Dare!" he said dramatically.


	5. Chapter 5

5 - In Which We Witness The Best Game Of Truth Or Dare In Wizarding History, We Find Out What _Really_ Goes On In Hermione's Head, And The Campers Indulge In Some Seriously Wild Fantasies

(Author's Note: I reread this and actually cringed, after choking on my lemonade and accidentally facedesking on the keyboard. This chapter may melt your brain. Continue at your peril

"The rules are as follows. One, the person answering the Truth or Dare is decided by the Spinning Bottle. Two, anybody can set the dare. Three, all dares must be done, the consequence of not doing so being a forfeit set by Fred and Myself. And four, you will not be able to lie; the magical contract you signed makes sure of that. All understand?"

Everybody nodded, and George sat down.

Fred put an empty bottle of butterbeer in the middle, and flicked his wand. The bottle spun around, and came to rest on Oliver.

"Truth or dare?" Fred asked.

"Truth", he replied, and Ginny laughed.

"Okay, how's this? Who is sexiest person in Gryffindor?"

Ron rolled his eyes; it was common knowledge that Ginny used to have a crush on Oliver.

Oliver thought for a second, and then shrugged.

"Angelina Johnson", he said, and Fred nodded appreciatively.

"Ding _dong_, Wood. You got that one right!"

Ginny huffed. "Just cause she's got boobs."

Oliver shook his head. "Just because she's amazing."

Ginny sulked, and Fred spun the bottle again.

It landed on Seamus.

"Seamus", George smiled, "Truth or Dare."

"Dare", the Irishman said.

Fred grinned. "Alright, Paddy. Your dare is to stand up, dance a jig and sing that song about leprechauns in your best Irish accent."

Harry and Ginny laughed as Seamus stood up and started jigging.

_"Oh I'm an Irish Leprechaun, with a pot of gold. I'll keep it till I'm fat and grey and very very old! I'm an Irish Leprechaun, as happy as can be. And you can be that happy too if you were just like me!"_

Everybody clapped, and George grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey from the wheelbarrow, chucking it to Harry.

"Alright guys, drink up! Let's get started for real!"

"Ron, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

Seamus laughed.

"Kiss Draco."

"What?! Are you out of your mind, Finnigan?"

"Do it, or face the consequences!"

Draco grinned and puckered up.

"Come on, Weasly; give us a snog!"

Everybody laughed, and Ron seriously considered refusing. But then he saw the look in Fred and George's eyes, and swore under his breath.

"Just a dare", he muttered. "Just a dare."

He grabbed a bottle of Butterbeer and glugged down about half, and then walked forwards.

"Just remember that I hate you, you lousy, good for nothing sex ferret, okay? You lying, cheating, ugly piece of shit."

Draco laughed, slightly more drunk than Ron.

"Aw, insults? Kinky much, Weasly! You going to call me a dirty whore now?"

Ron made a disgusted face and quickly pecked Draco on the lips.

"Ew", he said, and Seamus shook his head.

"That wasn't a kiss! You've got to do it properly!"

Ron swore loudly at him and glugged down the other half of the bottle.

"Fuck this" he muttered, and took Draco's face in his hands. And then he kissed him, hard, and George made a disgusted sound as Ron started to move his mouth.

Now normally Draco would have run a mile, but he had already consumed eight shots of Firewhiskey, and as such, his inhibitions just disappeared. He kissed his arch-enemy back, to disgusted sounds from everybody in the room, save for Seamus, who was watching in mild fascination. Ron ended up on top of the Malfoy heir, and Draco ended up on the floor. Then Ron pulled away and wiped his mouth.

"You happy now, Seamus?"

The Irishman nodded, and Ginny laughed.

"Ron _loves_ Draco!"

Malfoy shot her a Malfoy Death Glare, and she shut up.

The bottle spun again, and it landed on Neville.

"Truth or dare?"

"T-truth", stammered Neville, who was wishing he could be anywhere but there.

Malfoy gave an evil grin.

"Who, Longbottom, is the sexiest Professor at Hogwarts?"

Neville thought for a bit, obviously trying not to answer, but the magic in the contract forced his hand.

"Professor Snape."

"WHAT?" everybody exclaimed simultaneously.

"Well, he's so tall, and clever, and his robes billow out behind him every time he walks, and he has this way of saying 'Detention, Longbottom' that makes you want to throw him up against a wall and snog his brains out."

Now Neville had consumed _way_ more butterbeer than was good for him, but that didn't stop the most awkward silence (even more awkward than the one at the start of this tale) ever from happening.

Nobody said anything about it after that; there was truly nothing they _could_ say.

And so it continued, the truths getting more and more embarrassing, the dares getting more and more ludicrous, and the contestants getting more and more drunk. Harry and Ginny ended up tongue wrestling, George ate a live slug and Fred confessed to having sex with Lee Jordan in Charms Detention.

Then, finally, the bottle landed on Draco.

"Ah, Ferret, we were beginning to think you weren't playing. Truth or Dare."

Draco flicked his hair.

"Dare."

Hermione, who was well and truly hammered, grinned.

"Take Ginny's Candy bracelet off with your teeth."

Ginny, who was only slightly less drunk than Hermione, laughed like a demon.

"Come on, Draco!"

Ginny stood up, and Draco walked over kneeling down. Then he lifted up the hem of her dress, and caught the bracelet in his teeth. He dragged it down her leg, and over her foot, and then ate it.

Ginny blushed.

"That was… strangely hot, actually."

Draco nodded.

"It's me; of course it was. Although, I must admit, the heat from higher up was strangely arousing."

Ginny blushed even harder.

"Hermione, Truth or Dare?"

"Truth!"

"What's the sexiest dream you've ever had?" This question was Ron's.

Hermione would normally have closed up, as she always did, when they talked about stuff like this, but she was a completely different person now.

"Well, I'm in Dumbledore's office, and I'm reading this magazine I found on his desk, and there's a naked picture of Professor McGonagall in it. Then Snape jumps out of the Pensieve and says something about Detention, and then Draco comes in and ends up rolling on the floor with Snape. They do some crazy shit with their tongues, and then Professor Flitwick fucks me over a desk, Looney Lovegood creams in my face and Neville randomly starts giving Ron's dad a lap dance."

"Okay…" Fred said.

"You have a seriously weird mind, Granger. You know that, right?" Draco drawled, and George laughed.

"So Malfoy _is_ sleeping with Professor Snape!"

"Fred, Truth or Dare?"

"Dare."

Seamus giggled.

"Make out with George."

He did, and with great relish. In fact, when Malfoy looked down, he saw that the bulge in his leather trousers had grown significantly_. _

_What the hell?_ _Okay, so I get turned on by Weaslys making out. That's weird._

When Fred finally extracted his tongue from his twin's mouth, he grinned.

"I've always wanted to make out with myself, and that's as close as you can get!"

"Ginny! Truth or Dare?"

"Dare?"

Harry set the dare this time.

"Take off your dress and make out with somebody in this tent."

Now Harry was never normally one to take advantage of somebody when they were drunk, but this was Drunk Harry, and Drunk Ginny obliged. She slid out of her dress, revealing firm breasts held in by lacy Muggle underwear. Then she looked around, and grinned, before launching herself at Draco. The first thought that went through his head was, _shit, this is the second Weasly I've snogged today_.

But then his secondary brain kicked in. Enough said.

Suffice to say, Ginny ended up panting on the floor, mysteriously missing her bra, and Draco ended up with the worst pain he'd ever experienced, as his dick tried to break free of the tight leather trousers.

Within half an hour, Draco had snogged the complete set of Weaslys, everybody was in some state of undress, and Seamus was giving Neville a hand job.

Within an hour Ron's back and arse were in agony from a riding whip that Ginny had produced from her bag, Harry's arse had been tongue-fucked twice by an over-exited Oliver Wood and Seamus was kindly showing Draco the correct method for giving head.

Within two hours, the game wasn't even being played anymore; Fred Weasly was licking butterbeer off Harry's back, Neville was trying to extract a cherry from Ginny's pussy, George and Seamus were simultaneously trying to choke each other's chicken, Ron was screaming as Oliver tried to pull his foot out of a particularly painful spot, and Draco and Hermione, after pouring copious amounts of water over their heads, were watching all this with a massive headache and disgusted looks on their faces.

"Well, I certainly didn't expect _that_", Hermione deadpanned, and Draco laughed.

"Well, it's true then. Camping does improve bonding."

Hermione leaned in, a sultry smile on her face.

"Perhaps we should do some bonding of our own, Malfoy?"

Draco grinned and put a finger under her chin.

"Why is it that my last name always sounds sexier when you use it?"

Hermione kissed him lightly.

"It's because the only over people who use it are Snape, Harry and the Weaslys, and I am _so_ much more intelligent than them."

Draco laughed.

"What does intelligence have to do with it?"

Hermione shrugged and walked her fingers up his muscled, leather-clad chest.

"According to Ron, brainy is the new sexy", she said.

"For once in his life, the Weasel is right." Then he stopped.

"Maybe that's why I'm in love with Severus Snape."

Draco grinned to show he was joking, and pulled her face to his. They slowly kissed like that for a minute, until Hermione pulled away.

"What?" Draco asked.

Hermione grinned.

"I get the feeling we should put memory charms on the others first."

"You're right; they won't want to remember this in the morning."

"But I, on the other hand, would like nothing more."

"Then I'll give you something to _really _remember."

"Memories first; unforgettable stuff later."

"Go on, then."

Hermione took out her wand.

"Obliviate", she said, and once she'd done everybody in the room, she walked back to Draco. The blond gave something that was part smirk, part smile.

"Well, now that's done…"

He leant in, and Hermione did too, but then she pulled away.

"What?" Draco asked, and Hermione shook her head.

"I know what you're doing. Taking advantage of me while I'm drunk. What happened to filthy Mudblood? You hate me; you're just coming onto me because you want sex."

Draco frowned.

"No… I'm not. I…"

Hermione laughed.

"Of course you are; you're Slytherin. That's what you do."

"And how would you know?"

Hermione was silent.

"I… I just know, okay?"

Draco nodded.

"Alright; you don't want to."

And then he had a thought; a strange thought that was so Gryffindor-like that he almost discarded it straight away.

"If you don't want to, I respect that. But what can I do to prove you wrong?"

_Jesus Christ, I must be more drunk than I thought._

Hermione just smiled slightly.

"You could be nice, once in a while."

Draco nodded and went to his compartment. He lay awake all night, planning and plotting.


End file.
